


Please Your Master

by yujacheong



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Dark, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Misunderstandings, Obi-Wan Believes It's Consensual, Tatooine Slave Culture, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 06:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/pseuds/yujacheong
Summary: Anakin is worried about his future success in the Jedi Order. He thinks having sex with Obi-Wan will secure it.“Please your Master, Anakin,” his mother used to say. “Never forget. You must always please your Master.”
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 363
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	Please Your Master

“Please your Master, Anakin,” his mother used to say. “Never forget. You must always please your Master.”

To speak those words was more ritual than necessity because any slave surviving beyond infancy understood their meaning without having to hear them spoken aloud: You survived – and thrived – upon your Master’s pleasure. Please them; keep them happy. Do that, and you’d be well cared for in return.

Anakin’s Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t _that_ sort of Master. He knew that. But old habits were hard to break. And besides, he knew he was an apprentice only on sufferance – the High Council had not initially wanted to train him. _Too old_ – he remembered that well, too, and painfully, ambitious dreams reduced to ash – and he did not want to give them occasion to change their minds.

This meant keeping Master Obi-Wan happy…and this was not, to Anakin’s everlasting dismay, always especially easy to do. Obi-Wan could be odd, downright _prickly_ at times, and it could be difficult for Anakin to understand his point of view. They were often in disagreement. Or maybe the better phrase would be ‘fierce, diametrical opposition.’

Whatever. In any event, the disagreements grew worse as Anakin grew older, and whenever Obi-Wan would again shake his head with disappointment and turn away, Anakin felt the slave’s instinctive frisson of fear. _He wasn’t pleasing his Master._

And that failure put Anakin’s future with the Jedi Order at risk. He might be cast aside! He might be branded a failure! He had to protect himself from such an outcome. _He had to do something about his Master’s displeasure before it was too late._

But how? The question had no answer.

Or it had no answer, that is, until Anakin noticed how Obi-Wan looked at him.

He didn’t know quite when it had started, when the looks of frustration, of fond exasperation, and of unexpected affection turned into something else…something _more_ –

Admiration. And heat. Anakin had become a man, and clearly on some level Obi-Wan had noticed. He never acted on it, though. He might not even be consciously aware of the attraction.

Slaves were used for sex by their Masters. That was just a simple fact of life on Tatooine. Anakin had been lucky in that he had possessed other useful skills to keep him busy in Watto’s shop. But some of his friends had earned their keep on their backs. So while it wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to do, it wasn’t like he’d never entertained the possibility.

_Never forget. You must always please your Master_.

“Um, Anakin, w-what – what are you – ?”

It’d been simplicity itself to slice the lock on the door to Obi-Wan’s room while he was out. Anakin had been waiting for him to turn in for the evening – on his bed, naked, legs spread – for nearly an hour.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Master.” Anakin arranged his facial expression into something he hoped approximated seductive and gave his cock a firm stroke. “What does it look like?”

“Um.” Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted down towards Anakin’s cock. He shifted from foot to foot and licked his lips nervously. Yep, he definitely liked what he saw.

“Won’t you join me? It _is_ your bed, Master.” Anakin lifted his hips off of the mattress just enough to show Obi-Wan his hole. He’d prepared in advance; it was loose and glistening with lubricant.

Obi-Wan licked his lips again. His eyes were wide and dark, and his cock was straining within the confines of his trousers. “Anakin, you – I-I don’t, I didn’t think – are you quite certain…?”

_Please your Master, Anakin._

Why wasn’t Obi-Wan taking the hint already? Anakin didn’t understand. Time, it seemed, to be blunt. “Fuck me,” Anakin said slowly, enunciating each syllable. “I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me.”

That did the trick. Obi-Wan was on him in an instant – he’d never seen him move so fast outside of the training salle – cupping the sides of his face between the palms of his hands and kissing him. Sweetly. Deeply. But not chastely. His tongue slipped into Anakin’s mouth and touched behind Anakin’s teeth. An unexpectedly intimate caress – Anakin shuddered, sudden arousal warring with disgust.

Obi-Wan hummed happily. He nipped and sucked at Anakin’s lower lip. He threw his arms around Anakin’s shoulders to embrace him properly. The still-clothed bulge at his groin pressed into Anakin’s bare belly, but he made no move to progress matters further.

Time, Anakin decided, to speed things up. He yanked Obi-Wan’s trousers down, recklessly tearing the fabric. Obi-Wan gasped in surprise at that, momentarily breaking the kiss, and so did Anakin. Kriff, Obi-Wan was big! Way bigger than Anakin. Who’d’ve thought Obi-Wan would’ve been packing that monster? Niggling doubts. Was Anakin going to be able to take him…?

_Never forget_.

“I said fuck me, not kiss me,” Anakin growled as he lifted his legs high into the air.

“Anakin…” The tip of Obi-Wan’s cock brushed Anakin’s perineum. He was getting into position.

“Oh fuck me already,” Anakin bit out.

And then…Obi-Wan did. The pain of first penetration was like a punch in the stomach, and for a few seconds, Anakin forgot how to think or breathe. He whimpered like a wounded animal.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan was buried to the hilt, but he wasn’t moving. His big cock was throbbing against Anakin’s inner walls, rearranging his internal organs by dint of its mere presence, but Obi-Wan’s brow was furrowed with concern. “Are you quite certain – ”

_You must always please your Master._

“Quite certain,” Anakin growled. “Move.”

And, well. If he’d thought the first penetration would be the worst of it, he was wrong. The thrusts were painful too, and Obi-Wan’s steady, considerate rhythm, the brushes against his prostate, the tender kisses, it all only seemed to make everything worse. Dimly Anakin realized he was crying, tears clotting his lashes, yet he never went soft beneath Obi-Wan. It hurt, yes, and he didn’t want this pain, didn’t really want this, but it also felt good, so kriffing good, Obi-Wan knew how to make him feel good –

“Ohhh, Anakin – !” Obi-Wan was going to come. His hips slammed hard into Anakin – once, twice, again.

Wetness filled Anakin. He shuddered, disgust and desire in equal measure; he couldn’t distinguish the difference between them anymore. His cock ached.

_Please your Master, Anakin._

“More,” Anakin said, slipping a hand between them so that he could start pulling frantically on his cock. “Don’t stop.”

Obi-Wan moaned and resumed thrusting as Anakin fell headlong into his first orgasm of the night.


End file.
